


FIC: Promises

by jagnikjen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagnikjen/pseuds/jagnikjen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While exploring Longbottom Manor, Ginny happens upon Neville in a most unexpected activity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FIC: Promises

**Promises**

Ginny meandered through the spotless corridors of Longbottom Manor heading toward the wing of rooms she hadn't yet explored. Most of the doors were closed, though not locked, on various immaculately clean rooms. The ground floor housed a drawing room, a music room, a picture gallery, a large ballroom, and garden room opening into the back gardens. So far, on the first floor, she'd peeked into a handful of bedrooms. There must be a small army of house elves caring for the manor for it to remain so tidy all the time.

She was reaching for yet another highly polished door knob, when she heard a noise and stilled. Glancing to her left, she saw a narrow shaft of light spilling out across the patterned hallway carpet. She heard the noise—a soft moan—again. Perhaps a house elf was trying to lift more than he or she was able. They'd not had house elves at the Burrow. Of course, Ginny'd seen Kreacher, but she'd never seen any of the Longbottom house elves in the month since she and Neville had been married. Perhaps she could get a look.

She approached the open door and peeked slowly around the doorjamb and into the room. Her breath stalled in her throat.

Neville lay sprawled on a leather chaise lounge. One long lean naked leg lay straight out along the chaise, the other was bent and resting on the floor, his trousers and pants puddled around his ankle. His shirt had been bunched up around his chest leaving his abdomen bare. A smattering of dark hair trailed from his belly button downward. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, face slack. Long fingers, _talented_ fingers she knew, grasped his thick erection. He pumped firmly and rhythmically.

“Ginny . . .” he murmured.

Wetness instantly pooled in her sex. If he wanted her, why hadn't he come to find her? But he looked sexy as hell and she, selfishly, did not interrupt him.

Neville's motions and his breathing picked up speed. He began thrusting into his own hand, panting harder, louder. The purple head of his cock poked out of its foreskin with each upward thrust.

She swallowed against the desire that welled within her. She loved the feel of his hips slamming into hers, the weight of his body pressing her down, his breath on her neck. Perhaps she ought to make herself known and they could both come to a mutually satisfying release. But she'd have never guessed this of her sweet husband and she suddenly had the perverse desire to watch him.

And watch him she did, getting more turned on by the sounds he was making, her name issuing forth every so often. Though a poor substitute for Neville’s cock, Ginny slid her hand inside her knickers and then slipped her fingers into herself, now drenched, and began circling her clit in time with Nev's movements. Pleasure spiraled from her center; her legs turned to jelly. It was all she could do to stay upright.

With a final groan of her name, Neville thrust upward, spurts of pearly white cum landing on his belly.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she made herself come.

Neville's head jerked up and he scrambled to a sitting position. “Who's there?“ he asked, his face turning three shades of red, and tugging his shirt down to cover himself.

She’d obviously made some noise. Pushing open the door, Ginny stuck her head in and then stepped into what she now noticed was a library. Her own face felt as warm as Neville's probably was. “I'm sorry, Nev, it's just me. I thought you were a house elf and wanted to see one.”

Neville sat still, avoiding her eyes as she crossed the room. She knelt down in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. “Why are you in here doing this by yourself?”

“I want you all the time, Ginny. _All_ the time . . .” He finally looked at her, his face still ruddy. “I didn't want to bother you.”

“Bother me? We're married, Nev. How many times do I have to tell you—I _like_ sex. And I especially like sex with _you_.”

“Really?” A hopeful look replaced the embarrassment, though the scarlet came flooding back.

Ginny nodded. “If you're feeling randy, tease me, flirt with me, feel me out— _or up_.” She waggled her brows at him. “Unless it's that time of the month, chances are, I'm going to respond. Now . . .” She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “. . . much as I enjoyed finding you wanking to thoughts of me, promise me that I won't catch you doing this again.”

**~ Fin ~**


End file.
